The Abandoned
by LuvEwan
Summary: "You saw the security footage. He made a choice...and I choose to move on. I choose Anakin." AU.
1. Chapter 1

**The Abandoned**

By: LuvEwan

 **Part 1**

Anakin Skywalker was in trouble.

He hadn't done anything, _yet._ In fact, he was trying to be, what had Instructor Ventu called it, _productive_. He and his Master were finally at the Temple again after a series of missions, but the man had barely set foot on the landing platform when he was called to the Council. So Anakin returned to their long-dormant quarters alone, happy to reacquaint himself with all the half-finished projects littering his work bench. His teacher didn't share his need to tinker and fix, but apart from the occasional eye roll, never discouraged his hobby.

After a stop at the fresher, Anakin surveyed the little apartment. He didn't get why Jedi kept everything so plain. He remembered his mom looking out the dirty windows of their hovel, telling Anakin about flowers, bright blossoms that grew around the tree trunks on beautiful free worlds like Alderaan, how wonderful it would be to have those flowers on their table to look at.

" _We don't have pretty flowers, Ani, but at least we can have a clean place for ourselves."_

Anakin could admit he wasn't the tidiest housekeeper, but his Master might even be worse. He let data pads pile up on the tables, forgot his half empty tea cups everywhere, and usually forewent the cleaning droids. Couple the usual clutter with months of dust and even Anakin could see something had to be done.

He was as fond of chores as any other eleven year old. So he moved fast, using the Force only when he really needed to, only when it was _productive_. It wasn't long before the quarters were clean and orderly again. The floors, Anakin noted with pride, actually shined.

Anakin stood at the closed door to his Master's room. He knew his Master valued his privacy, but Anakin thought it was pretty silly to clean an entire apartment except for one room. The older Jedi was usually a little grumpy after meeting with the Council. Maybe a neat bedroom would be a welcome surprise for him, especially coming from his normally messy Padawan.

Another bright idea that had led him to this problem. He wasn't snooping, but how could he convince his Master of that? He'd noticed the lamp beside the bed seemed too dim, and that was a way easy thing to repair. When he leaned over to inspect it closer, he saw a little black object that must have fallen between the table and wall at some point.

He turned the thing around in his hands. Just a data chip. His Master had a lot of those. But there was never anything cool on them. When he first arrived at the Temple, he was disappointed to discover Jedi didn't watch action vids or look at comics. Even in his free time (there wasn't much) he was supposed to research stuff like Jedi history and galactic geography. The chip was probably full of boring facts about some planet no one had ever been to in the last million years.

Or it could be something important. What if his teacher had been searching for it? Maybe the Council needed it, and that was why they always gave him such a hard time.

Anakin grabbed a data reader and popped in the chip. A password prompt window flew up. He bypassed that quickly, a skill he had not yet told his Master about. It didn't seem like proper Jedi behavior.

" _Is it recording, Master Jedi?"_

Anakin jumped, his heart falling halfway to his stomach before he realized the words were blaring from the data pad. He lowered the volume.

The holograph projection was hazy and tinged with blue. Whoever was filming didn't know poodoo about how to do it right. A male figure in Jedi tunics appeared, but

" _I believe it is."_

The image shook wildly for a moment and the Jedi ran forward, still chuckling. It was a soft, happy sound. Anakin didn't recognize the voice and the holo was so shaky he couldn't make out the face either.

" _This is wicked! I meet two Jedi and now I'm recording a holograph!"_

Another, deeper laugh joined the strange scene. Instantly Anakin knew it was his Master. _"Perhaps I could instruct you on how to operate it a little smoother."_ Qui-Gon suggested.

More bumps in the image, as the recorder shifted into his Master's hands. At once the other Jedi's blurry appearance steadied. Anakin squinted his eyes. He was a young man with a Padawan braid much longer than Anakin's. He was obviously the test subject for the third person's hologram lesson.

" _Now that our friend's been given a few pointers, can you find a new focus to immortalize?"_ The Padawan begged. He sounded annoyed but his eyes twinkled. The picture abruptly zoomed in closer, and then the young man laughed, bringing up a hand as if to ward off the recorder.

" _I think you're a fine subject,"_ Qui-Gon said, and the picture swerved again, this time finding a tiny Twi'lek boy gaping up eagerly.

" _Can I interview you guys?! Like Gorgo Ruchs? He's my favorite holo reporter!"_

The frame switched back to the younger Jedi. It was obvious the little twi'lek was in charge again, though the quick instructions had improved his technique.

" _Well?"_ Qui-Gon prompted, out of view.

" _Alright,"_ the other Jedi forfeited.

" _Cool!"_ The boy crowed, and the image bounced, _"Can I ask you anything?"_

The Padawan smirked. _"You may."_

" _Okay! Um….well, what's your name?"_

The frame pulled in tight, so the Padawan's face was large and easy to make out. _"Obi-Wan Kenobi."_

Anakin was so startled he dropped the data pad. It skittered across the floor and collided with a familiar pair of boots.

"You've been busy," Qui-Gon Jinn observed from the doorway, bending to retrieve the escaped reader. He pulled out the chip. His blue eyes flicked over it a moment, then he tucked it into a fold of his tunic.

Anakin scrambled to his feet. It took him a minute to remember to bow. "I'm sorry, Master. I-"

"The rooms are as spotless as I've ever seen them." A strong hand squeezed his shoulder. "Well done, Padawan."

Anakin was relieved to find only gentle amusement on Qui-Gon's face. He didn't want to ruin it, but he also didn't want to get in actual trouble for hiding what he'd seen on the holo. "I was just trying to fix your lamp and accidentally found the chip…"

"And?" Qui-Gon was looking at him, but in the distracted way of someone who wasn't really _seeing_. Like he was too busy thinking. Thinking of Anakin's punishment? This wasn't going to be good.

Anakin swallowed. "It's him," he suddenly wished he was anywhere else, even a seven hour astrophysics lecture, "I mean, Obi-Wan's on it." The syllables felt strange in his mouth.. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard anyone say that name, least of all Qui-Gon.

His Master's features were perfectly still. Anakin needed to learn how to do that. "I see."

"I didn't know..I wouldn't have looked—"

Qui-Gon released a heavy breath. "It _is_ wrong to rifle through possessions that don't belong to you." He tugged Anakin's short braid. "But you did it while trying to help. I appreciate your initiative, Padawan."

Anakin smiled. "Thanks, Master." A hopeful pause, "So you're not mad at me?"

"Mad? No." Qui-Gon chuckled."It's already been forgotten." The tall Jedi cleared his throat, guiding Anakin into the main living area. "Now, I can't recall when I've seen the quarters this clean. I'd say you've earned a meal at Dex's."

Anakin perked up, the awkwardness of the conversation already dissipating. Eating at Dex's always meant dessert. He ran into his room to grab his boots and robe.

He didn't know why he'd been so nervous about the data pad. Qui-Gon didn't care about it at all.

It was late before they returned from the diner. As usual, the gruff and garrulous Besalisk was eager to share local off-the-record rumors. Anakin, who still occasionally wrestled with the Temple's level of decorum, was spellbound by Dex. Qui-Gon knew from his decades as a Master that sometimes young Padawans needed to be reminded that a rough, colorful universe existed beyond the orderly cityscape of Coruscant. Anakin Skywalker, of course, was not like other apprentices, and if anything the sleazier districts just reminded him of his first home. The boy seemed more at ease there. And, despite the opinions of certain members of the Jedi Council, Qui-Gon didn't think Anakin needed to shed his previous life entirely.

He could say from experience that such a feat was impossible.

 _No._

He would not drill the boy from Tatooine out of Anakin. A perfect Padawan did not always become a perfect Jedi.

Qui-Gon walked by Anakin's room. He sensed the boy winding down-or, at least, trying to-after the eventful day. Anakin was two years younger than most initiates when they began their apprenticeships. He possessed a restless spirit and had much to learn, but Qui-Gon's confidence in him had never wavered.

 _Much to learn._

His fingers absently slipped into his tunic, ghosting over the data chip. He knew it would be pointless to watch it. Whatever was on the holo couldn't offer any answers. Just another memory, pieces of a buried past he held no interest in examining.

Once, in a private conversation, Mace Windu had called Qui-Gon bitter.

Maybe that was true, for a time. Before Anakin lit up this new path, casting out the shadows, giving each day a purpose and joy.

Tonight, there was no place for bitterness. His Padawan, he observed with pride, was quite adept at sweeping out unwanted dust.

 _Anakin had always dreamed of escaping Tatooine. He would explore every corner of the Universe, because he_ could, _and maybe he'd even be a famous pod racer. And a Jedi. It would be completely different than his life as a slave._

 _He had just met the Jedi a few days before, and suddenly he wasn't a slave anymore. Anakin had watched the little dustball planet shrink into nothingness aboard the Queen's starship. Before he knew it his cramped slave's quarters had been replaced with a whole Temple full of Jedi and big statues and fountains and way more stuff than he'd ever imagined._

 _But he was already noticing that some parts of Jedi life weren't so far away from Mos Eisley._

 _Like the yelling._

 _Well, it wasn't really yelling. He was pretty sure this was the Jedi version of it. And it seemed much worse, like how when Mom was super mad she would actually talk slower and quieter._

 _If his Mom were here, she would tell him it was wrong to listen in on private conversations. Only she wasn't here, and her absence was a cold lump that kept getting colder and heavier in his stomach. He knew Master Qui-Gon was trying to be nice by letting him stay in his room. Anakin had never slept in such a big bed, and it was wizard getting to look out the window and seeing the rainbow lights of the city._

 _But he wasn't used to being this alone. Even when he was at his bench working on Threepio, he could always hear Mom washing the dishes, or his friends laughing outside._

 _So, even though a Jedi was supposed to be strong, and he was way too old anyway, he wanted to hear Master Qui-Gon. Even if it was just the clatter of his plate in the sink._

Do Jedi do dishes?

 _Anakin hoped not. He hated doing dishes. He tried to imagine the little green Jedi Councilor guy scrubbing tea cups and giggled to himself. But he stopped when he heard Master Qui-Gon talking to someone._

 _He tip toed through the dark room to the door and stayed still. That's when he knew Qui-Gon was yelling._

"… _don't want to talk about it, Mace."_

 _Mace Windu. Anakin remembered being quizzed by him in the serious Council meeting, right before everything got so crazy. "The Council_ needs _you to talk about it, Qui-Gon. It's not every day a senior Padawan simply—"_

" _The only Padawan I'm interested in discussing is Anakin," Qui-Gon interrupted, "I want to know when I can officially begin his training. We've been in limbo here and there's no reason for it."_

" _It's been ten days. And you KNOW there is a reason."_

" _No good reason, then."_

 _Master Windu sighed. "You know the Council has yet to make a decision regarding the boy."_

 _Anakin's face burned against the steel door. No one on the Jedi Council liked him. And it seemed as if they didn't like Master Qui-Gon very much either. He didn't get it. Qui-Gon was the nicest man Anakin had ever met. One day he would probably help Anakin free his Mom. Protective anger flared inside him. He wanted to burst out of the bedroom and confront Mace Windu._

" _What will you do with him? Ship him back to Tatooine? Squander his potential in order to prove a point to me?"_

 _Anakin felt like he'd been socked in the stomach. He couldn't go back. How could he go back there, now that he knew what it was like to be free? Tears ran out of his eyes. He scrubbed them away._

" _I think you overestimate your impact on the Council. Anyway, Skywalker is not what, or_ who, _I came here to discuss." A short pause. "Do you have any idea where Obi-Wan might be?"_

 _Anakin didn't understand much about the Force yet, but he could feel Qui-Gon's ire explode within it, sending sparks through Anakin's veins._

" _Do_ I _have any idea?" Qui-Gon rasped. "If I thought I could find him, do you think I'd be standing here, Mace?"_

 _Anakin sensed Mace Windu in the Force, too. His presence was calmer, expertly controlled. "With all due respect,_ Master _Jinn, we're not the ones who have stopped looking for him."_

 _A silence that lasted so long Anakin thought maybe the argument was finally over._

 _Then Qui-Gon spoke in a very soft, almost inaudible tone. "You saw the security footage. He made a choice." He swallowed with a click, "And I choose to move on. I choose Anakin."_

 _Relief rushed over the boy. Qui-Gon had picked him again, just like he picked him on Tatooine, and in the huge Council room, even though it seemed to make everyone mad. He thought Anakin was special. Worth fighting for._

 _He'd almost forgotten the men were still outside the door when Master Windu said "Have you considered that might be the root of this entire…mess?"_

" _I have considered much the last few days. I feel as if I've gone over every moment of my twelve years with Obi-Wan, analyzing his words, his actions, as well as my own, trying to understand WHY. When I close my eyes, I see his face, and wonder..." A slight waver, "..if he is alive. But he has betrayed me and my teachings, and revealed a callousness I never thought possible. So I must let go, in order to focus on the future."_

" _Skywalker?"_

" _Yes." Qui-Gon confirmed, without hesitation._

 _Anakin smiled in the dark room, leaning his head against the door._

 _More talking, but it moved further away, and then he heard a door whoosh open and shut. Master Windu was gone._

 _Anakin listened a little longer, just to be sure. When he was satisfied by the quiet, he crept back into the big sleep couch, his limbs heavy and mind pleasantly fuzzy._

 _He glanced out Qui-Gon's window. The world outside was still awake, and full of life, and easily carried the almost-Padawan into a deep slumber._

Qui-Gon Jinn could not sleep. He laid in the dark, willing his mind to quiet itself, waiting for the restlessness to uncoil from his limbs.

He had not suffered from insomnia since a few months into Anakin's apprenticeship. There simply wasn't time for it.

Tonight he was more exhausted than usual, even. Coming into his quarters to find Anakin watching that hologram, hearing that voice…

 _There is no Emotion. There is Peace._

He repeated the well-worn mantra, seeking comfort in the familiarity, waiting for the words to lull him into temporary oblivion.

That's all he needed. Just a brief respite, just to reset his mind.

" _It's him."_ Anakin had said.

 _Him._

Qui-Gon rose swiftly from the bed and went to the window. The electric showcase of Coruscant was constant. The skyline even at midnight teemed with speeders, lights, energy. It seemed enormous to him, from the small, quiet confines of his bedroom. He remembered standing at the same window and feeling overwhelming despair at the prospect of finding one man in the smothering megalopolis.

Of course, Obi-Wan had not been found. One night, while gazing out that same window, Qui-Gon felt himself release his secret, foolish hopes, and in their absence, the anger at last flooded inside him.

 _How could he do this?_ He had asked himself over and over, letting it overtake his thoughts. _How could he throw away everything I taught him?_

Anakin was all that kept him from drowning in it. Qui-Gon knew he was the right Master, the _only_ Master, for Anakin. So, like the grief and optimism that came before, he relinquished the rage.

 _There is no Anger._

He left the burdens of _what-if_ behind. He stopped pacing the floors while the rest of the Temple slept, wondering if it was his fault.

And finally, he closed off the part of himself that still listened for familiar footsteps in the hallway. He would catch himself before calling Anakin by the wrong name. He no longer expected to hear that distinct, light laughter when he told a joke.

It seemed cruel to hear that laughter today, rising up from bygone years, untainted and untouchable.

Qui-Gon looked at the data chip on his nightstand. Such a minuscule vessel, considering what it contained. He had thought every physical trace of that period of his life was gone.

He held the delicate chip between his fingers.

 _Anger leads to Hate._

A quick snap. He dropped the broken pieces of the chip in the garbage receptacle.

Then he pulled down the window shade and in the now-complete darkness, found rest.


	2. Part Two

**Part 2**

Anakin Skywalker loved to fly, maybe more than anything else. It was liberating to watch entire worlds, millions of beings, countless problems turn to one speck among the stars. Flying made him feel powerful, too. Ships weren't complicated (well, not to him). Punch in your coordinates and grab the yoke and _let go_ of anything else.

But space itself was boring. And cold. Especially when he wasn't the pilot.

Master Qui-Gon never seemed bored. Once, the man engaged in a three hour conversation about hevvu trees with an overly enthusiastic botanist while mediating talks at a climate conference. Anakin had wanted to stuff his ears with hevvu leaves and sleep under the conference table.

Currently, Qui-Gon was reading. Anakin thought that was pretty boring too. At least the things Qui-Gon read.

They were on a half empty civilian flight to Ivus Minor, a tiny forest world. Anakin had learned about it in a class once. A totally unremarkable planet.

 _We never go anywhere interesting. Like Naboo._

He glanced at Qui-Gon. "The Council really never said why we're going here?"

"No, Padawan," The older Jedi replied, eyes still fastened to the data pad in his hand, "I wouldn't be surprised if we are meant to help with some sort of restoration project. The Ivus Temple has become a bit neglected in the last few centuries."

Anakin slumped back. His knees hit the seat in front of him and he cursed.

Now Qui-Gon put aside the reader and fixed him with a look somewhere between rebuke and amusement. "Language, my apprentice."

"Sorry, Master." Anakin automatically replied. He pulled at a loose string on his robe sleeve. "Do you think this'll be a long mission?"

"It will be as long as it needs to be, I assume. Why?"

Anakin shrugged. "It just…seems like there are more important things to do."

Qui-Gon snorted. "Oh really? Have we not established that we don't even have our mission details yet?"

"Yeah, but it's Ivus Minor. I'm guessing we won't be saving lives."

The Master smiled. He was the rare kind of Jedi who didn't get annoyed when Anakin asked these questions. "And what should we be doing instead?"

Anakin stared down at his boots. "I don't know..freeing slaves?"

When he looked up at Qui-Gon again, the smile had disappeared from the lined face. "Anakin, you know I want to..."

"I know, I know, it's complicated." After all, the Jedi Council never permitted Qui-Gon to free Anakin seven years ago. It was a gamble that paid off once.

But his Master seemed reluctant to throw the dice again, for Anakin's mother. He could feel the honest waves of apology emanating from his Master. They were both hostage to the Jedi Council, constantly being reminded that Anakin's training, his very presence, was not a given. He was still only the Chosen One in Qui-Gon's eyes, no matter how many duels he won or Temple records he shattered.

"It's not your fault, Master." Anakin murmured. He stared ahead. A little humanoid girl with purple skin in the next row was struggling to open a piece of muja fruit. Without thinking he learned forward to help, but another pair of larger, purple hands deftly peeled the muja before he could get there. Then the same hand reached over to caress the girl's hair.

Anakin looked away.

Master and apprentice walked in comfortable silence through the thick throng of forest. Branches snapped under their boots. Unnamed creatures rustled as the Jedi passed by secret perches.

Twilight would come soon. Qui-Gon hoped to reach their assignment coordinates before then. He was concealing nothing about this mission from Anakin—he was given the vaguest of instructions from the Council. He did not press them on the matter. After all these years, Qui-Gon had finally learned to pick his battles.

The same could not be said for Anakin. The boy was incredibly gifted, a blaze of electric brilliance in the Force, but that intensity was difficult to reign in. He never worried about Anakin's skills or performance.

He worried about his heart.

"We should be there before too long." Qui-Gon said, if only to break up the silence.

"Yes, Master."

 _Qui-Gon could usually sense his apprentice's approach in the Force. Anakin was thirteen now, and excelling at an astonishing rate, but he never bothered raising his impressive mental shields around his Master. Of course, sometimes that meant Qui-Gon was walloped by thundering teenage emotions, blasting at full power._

 _He had just taken his first sip of afternoon tea when a wave of incoming fury and frustration struck him. Leaning back and setting aside the hot cup, the Jedi Master wondered if perhaps he was getting a little old for the rigors of teaching. This Padawan especially was a maelstrom of absolutes, intense highs and lows, and not a day went by when Anakin Skywalker did not test limits. Qui-Gon thought it must be part of the burden of the boy's Force gifts, that he could not do –or feel- anything_ average.

 _Qui-Gon himself had not been an easy pupil. Before Yan Dooku left the Order, he would often remind Qui-Gon of that fact. His youthful connection to the Living Force was so acute, his very senses would burn from it. The Count spent much of Qui-Gon's tutelage trying to tidy the winding pathways of his apprentice's mind, to no avail._

 _For not all spirits could be tamed. And Qui-Gon would not stifle Anakin, no matter what the Council wanted. He knew that a person who denied their feelings could,in the end, be consumed by them._

 _Or rendered emotionless._

 _The door slid open to admit a fuming Anakin. He stomped through the apartment and plopped into a chair beside Qui-Gon. With a quick Force suggestion the boy floated over a juice bulb and chugged it. He then dropped his chin into balled fists and blew out a breath._

 _Qui-Gon took that as his cue. "You seem unsettled, Padawan. Did something happen in your classes?"_

 _The boy hesitated, but only for a moment.. "Jaxx Metyor is the biggest sleemo in the whole Temple!" He declared with passionate conviction. "Next time I see him I wish I could wipe that snotty smile off his dumb face and-"_

" _Calm yourself. Find your center," Qui-Gon intoned, balancing rebuke with gentle guidance, pressing his palm to Anakin's arm. "Now, what is the situation with Jaxx Metyor?"_

 _Anakin was still fuming. "I don't want to talk about it, Master."_

" _Oh, is that why you came barging in here, broadcasting your displeasure for the entire Temple to hear? You could've fooled me," He chuckled. "Tell me what happened."_

 _The Padawan fiddled with the tail of his braid, brushing the blonde hairs between his fingers. "Well he was being a nosy jerk, like he always is. Someone told him about how I used to pod race, and he didn't believe it, even though I'm TONS better than everyone in all our flight simulations. He starts asking me all these dumb questions about where I'm from." The hooded blue eyes rose to meet Qui-Gon's, "And then he tells me Jedi aren't supposed to be 'from' anywhere."_

Ah. _Qui-Gon pulled the braid out of Anakin's toying grip, smoothing it down and straightening one of the colored beads. "Most Jedi cannot remember life before being brought to the Temple. But there are distinct advantages to your upbringing, Anakin."_

 _Anakin lifted a tentatively curious brow. "Like what? I have to do like three times the homework just to catch up."_

 _Qui-Gon snorted. "From what your instructors tell me, that is no hardship for you. You sail through your courses." Which was probably one of the reasons the other Padawan was picking on Anakin to begin with. "Being raised outside the Temple, your view of the Universe is far more expansive than that of Jaxx Meytor's. It's given you a deeper sense of empathy for others."_

 _The corner of the boy's lips twitched a little. "AND I was a better pilot than him when I was seven."_

 _Qui-Gon laughed. "I don't doubt it. But you needn't be boastful. Let your skills and your actions speak for you." He knew it had been a mistake to discuss the prophecy of the Chosen One in front of Anakin. His apprentice tended to deal with insecurity by growing defensive, brash, and even arrogant. It was a constant balancing act for Qui-Gon as his teacher, to commend Anakin's accomplishments and nurture his ever-flourishing talents without inflating his head._

" _Yes, Master," Anakin said absentmindedly. He still looked irritated as he traced shapes onto the tabletop. "…Master?"_

" _Yes?"_

" _Jaxx said some other stuff…about you."_

 _Qui-Gon crossed his arms. "Did he?" He had never met Meytor before, but he was used to his unconventional reputation preceding him. So were his Padawans. "What 'stuff' did he say?"_

" _Like I said, he's a real skug. No one likes him."_

" _You don't need to cushion the blow, Anakin, I think I can take it."_

" _Well I was just getting really annoyed with him, and I said he should shut up because I'm a Padawan just like everyone else.." Anakin paused, looking as if it was taking every last bit of his willpower not to twist and squirm, "and he said even if you're training me I'm not really a Padawan, cuz you're not really a Master."_

 _Qui-Gon blinked. "That comes as news to me. I can assure you, my apprentice, I've been a Jedi Master far longer than either you or Jaxx Meytor have been alive."_

" _Yeah, but…" Anakin chewed on his bottom lip, "He said that you can't be a real Master if your Padawans never get Knighted."_

 _An ambush, cutting deeper because he wasn't expecting it. He did not discuss certain parts of his past with anyone, not even Anakin. Qui-Gon certainly never expected to hear his failures and private pain used as a way to taunt his current apprentice. A hot wave of shame washed over him._

 _Anakin was looking at him with open worry. Qui-Gon squeezed his shoulder. "I promise you, none of that is true. You are on the path to Knighthood. I know that you will be an exceptional Jedi."_

I know it. You will surpass us all.

 _The tension visibly drained from the slender body. Anakin released a pent up breath and smiled. "I knew Jaxx was full of it."_

" _Who is his Master?"_

" _Um, I think his name is Master Muln."_

 _His heart quickened._ Garen Muln.

" _And Master Muln isn't even really a Master yet either, cuz Jaxx is his first Padawan."_

First Padawan. _Could it be? Garen Muln was old enough for an apprentice of his own? But that would mean…_

 _Another surprise attack, the first pang nearly unbearable. He trapped his thoughts behind walls of durasteel and cleared his throat. "Master Muln is to be regarded with the same respect as you would extend any Master, Anakin. And I might speak with him about the…opinions his apprentice is spreading."_

 _Anakin rocketed upright. "Don't do that, Qui-Gon!"_

 _The older Jedi pursed his lips in silent disapproval._

"… _Sorry,_ Master, _I just don't want him calling me a tattler on top of everything else."_

" _Hopefully Jaxx will mature with time and proper training. But you must also learn that YOU are in control of how words, even harsh ones, affect you." Qui-Gon's voice softened, "A true Jedi is steady at the core, because a true Jedi's core is the Force. Find that peace and strength within yourself and his words will lose their power."_

 _Anakin was still learning to conceal his base reactions; Qui-Gon could tell he was not fully satisfied with their talk. The boy craved deep interactions and plain language. Rigid rights and wrongs. No doubt he yearned for Qui-Gon to condemn Jaxx Meytor._

 _But Qui-Gon, over sixty now, was still learning, too. The Universe was rarely black and white. It was a hard lesson. Perhaps even more so for a former slave from Tatooine._

" _Master?"_

 _Qui-Gon realized he had been staring blindly, absorbed in his thoughts. "Yes, Padawan?"_

" _I've been thinking…I know I'm not supposed to think about this and I really shouldn't bring it up but-"_

 _The older Jedi held up a hand. "Your thoughts are your own, Anakin. I may offer guidance but your mind is not mine to police."_

 _Anakin nodded, appearing to mull over Qui-Gon's words before continuing." "Okay. Well…why didn't he want to be a Knight?"_

 _Qui-Gon felt the old ache in his chest. "I don't know."_

" _Yeah, I can't figure it out either. Being a Knight seems like the coolest thing ever." Anakin stood up and downed another juice bulb. He swiped his arm across his mouth. "You don't have to worry about me, Master. Like you said, I can handle Jaxx." A carefree grin brightened Anakin's face. "And I can't WAIT to be a Knight."_

" _I'm glad to hear it," Qui-Gon said lightly, "so take a small step toward that lofty goal by working on your assignments."_

" _Yes, Master. Thanks, Master."_

 _He smiled. "Of course, my apprentice."_

 _Qui-Gon watched the boy walk to his private quarters with a lack of enthusiasm._

 _Then he reached for his forgotten tea. He took a drink and found that it was cold._

When they at last reached the mission coordinates, Anakin was confused. He shaded his eyes against the midday sun and squinted intently. In the midst of dense forest stood a large, aged temple. Hundreds of crumbling steps led to an ornate set of carved doors.

He started up the stairs, but a hand on his shoulder drew him back. A step crushed under his boot.

Qui-Gon's eyes were on the temple as he addressed his Padawan, "Wait."

Anakin had the nagging feeling he was missing something. It was silent, save the random, sharp calls of distant birds. No one was emerging from the doors to greet them.

"Are you sure we're in the right place, Master?"

"Yes."

Anakin had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. For being the Chosen One, the Force always seemed to leave him out of the loop. "Then why are we the only ones here?"

"Patience, Padawan." The older Jedi said, then slowly sunk into a meditative pose on the ground.

Anakin reluctantly joined him. Meditation made something inside him itch. He didn't like being alone with his thoughts on that deepest level. He knew it disappointed Qui-Gon. If the man knew what it was like for Anakin…

But there were things they just didn't share with each other.

He closed his eyes and rested his palms on his knees. He gathered the Force around him, soaked in the surrounding energy of the forest and the reliable stillness of his Master, moving beyond the Present, letting the deluge pull him along.

Qui-Gon, no doubt, found tranquility in the exercise. Anakin only felt adrift.

" _It must end. Whatever it takes."_

The voice echoed through his mind. The Force churned with a terrible dread. Anakin was pinned, couldn't dodge the clawing hands or the searing light, the nauseous burning exploding in his skull.

" _It must end."_

A scream rang through the trees. His eyes flew open and he realized his throat was raw and he was covered in sweat.

Qui-Gon was looking at him with obvious concern.

Master Yoda waited at the base of the grand, ruined steps of the Ivus Temple.

"Right on time, you are," The tiny Senior Master garbled. He leaned on his gimer stick and fixed heavy green eyes on the two Jedi. "Too _late_ , you are."

Qui-Gon helped Anakin to his feet. Aftershocks of the boy's ill-fated meditation jerked and convulsed in the Force. He felt sick; Anakin seemed no better. Together they staggered towards Yoda and bowed.

"Too late for what?" Anakin lifted his head and managed to speak, though he sounded strained.

"Hmm…" Yoda studied them. Wisps of white hair stirred from a slight breeze. His expression was, as usual, unreadable. "For many things, too late are you, I think."

Qui-Gon went down on one knee, silently entreating Anakin to do the same. Master Yoda rarely left Coruscant. To find him at the base of the Ivus Temple only increased the mystery and unease surrounding their mission. "As always, we submit to your wisdom, my Master."

Yoda nodded slowly. "Wisdom, perhaps, you shall find, if open to it you are. In this Jedi Temple, answers lie." He tapped the gimer stick on a step; more chunks of grey stone fell away. "Wisdom and answers, you will find, at the end of once-broken paths. But mended, the paths must be, before traveled."

Qui-Gon glanced at Anakin. His apprentice was gaping at the winding, shattered stairs before them.

"But…"

"Much is there to see, young Skywalker, on this sacred ground." The stooped little Jedi lifted the cowl around his head. Shadow nearly eclipsed the sleepy features. "But begin, you must, with the first step."

Riddles.

Anakin was tired of them. He never thought being a Jedi meant having to twist his brain around so many mental puzzles. There wasn't a Master alive who could just offer simple explanations or advice.

That was why he was drawn to people like Chancellor Palpatine, who could talk to him in a straight line. No wonder Qui-Gon didn't care for the Chancellor. Anakin's Master presented every lesson as a knot to be unraveled.

Anakin didn't think things always needed to be so…complicated. The stairs, for example, were obviously destroyed. Why not clear them away and build more?

He said as much to Qui-Gon, who was crouched in front of the collapsing display.

The older Jedi looked up at him with contemplative eyes. "When you were twelve and broke your leg on the mission to Aleen, do you suppose I should've abandoned you and requested a new apprentice?"

 _More double-_ speak, he grumbled to himself. Anakin could see Yoda watching their exchange, sitting on a stump close by. No doubt waiting for Anakin to give the wrong answer. He was on the Council, after all.

"Of course not, but these are _stairs_. Some things are replaceable and some things aren't."

He felt a random resurgence of nausea; even his ear lobes tingled with false fever. Remnants of his previous vision whispered to him. " _It must end."_

 _It must end_. Hopefully it was just the Force, assuring him that this mission wouldn't last forever. Even if Yoda wanted them to restore hundreds of disintegrating steps-without any tools.

"Perhaps we should stop to consider _why_ these stairs might be worth saving." Qui-Gon suggested.

Anakin peered at him suspiciously. "You're in on this, aren't you, Master?"

An amused, tired chuckle. "Unfortunately for me, I am not."

Anakin slumped. He gazed up at the trees towering around them, avoiding Master Yoda's scrutiny. Yes, he was _positive_ there were more important things they could be doing.

He reached down and picked up a stone.


	3. Part Three

**Part 3**

" _MOM!"_

 _Anakin sat up, blinking rapidly in the darkness. Nothing looked familiar. His heart was beating in his throat. He was going to throw up, but swallowed hard, pressing his twitching lips together._

" _Padawan."_

 _A strong hand touched his shoulder, grounding him in the Force._

 _Darlyn Bota. Outer Rim. Mission._

 _The mission was over._

 _Anakin rubbed his eyes. At last, reality materialized. They were on the ship, going home, getting_ away. _It was not Shmi Skywalker leaning over him with motherly concern, giving off the warm, comforting scent of home._

 _It was Qui-Gon Jinn, attentive and Jedi-calm, waiting for him to speak._

" _I'm sorry.." Anakin was embarrassed at the wobble in his own voice. He straightened, drawing his braid behind his shoulder and wiping his mouth._

 _With a flick of Qui-Gon's fingers, the cramped sleeping quarters were awash in silvery, artificial light. "I'm sorry as well, my apprentice."_

 _Anakin didn't have to ask why. The mission. Posing as a Darlyn Bota slave owner and son. Having to pretend to be the sort of scum that_ still _imprisoned his mother on Tatooine._

 _He scooted back into the corner of the cot and drew his knees up to his chest. The images from the dream were superimposed over his senses, bathing him in helplessness and fury._

 _But it wasn't a dream. It was a memory._

" _My mom…" He whispered. Normally he tried not to mention her. She was so deeply engrained in his heart, he loved her so much, that it seemed a betrayal to mention her among Jedi. No attachments, after all._

 _Qui-Gon's expression softened. To his credit, the man never discouraged Anakin from talking about his mother or childhood. He squeezed Anakin's knee encouragingly._

 _Anakin's guts churned. How could it feel so fresh, years later? Why was he so easily transformed into that boy, without autonomy, without hope, again? "When we were…undercover…around that…scum" he spat out the word, "I kept thinking about her. If she's okay." Anakin wanted to believe that even with the worlds and years separating them, he would be able to sense if his mother was in serious danger._

 _But what if he couldn't?_

" _It is natural that this assignment would stir up feelings." Qui-Gon said._

" _Yeah, but I'm not even supposed to HAVE feelings."_

 _Qui-Gon gave a gentle laugh. "A Jedi experiences the same range of emotions as any other being. If we did not feel, we wouldn't be of much use to anyone. The key is to control dangerous emotions by releasing them to the Force."_

 _Anakin stared ahead. It was easy for Qui-Gon to lecture about suppressing emotions. When had the Jedi Master ever watched his only parent cower under a slaver's whip? That wasn't the kind of anger that disappeared after a little meditation._

" _I can't." He muttered._

" _Look at me." The older Jedi commanded, but compassionately. He was always serene, with the reflection of water in his eyes, tranquil winds in his voice._

 _Anakin felt like a sandstorm. Grit and heat kicked up in a swirling maelstrom. Yet he obeyed his Master, looking at him, not bothering to mask his frustration._

" _Holding onto anger only hurts yourself, Padawan. If you allow it to fester, eventually it will turn into hatred, and-_

" _I don't care. I DO hate them. They SHOULD be hated. I hate every slaver and I HATE Watto." Anakin's eyes didn't waver from his Master's. He wanted the man to see he wasn't ashamed of his feelings. His mother's face floated in his periphery. "I wish every one of them would die."_

 _Qui-Gon seemed startled, disturbed. Anakin didn't care. He would never be like the other Padawans anyway._

" _I understand why you would hate them. Slavers commit reprehensible acts, and they should be imprisoned for them. But hatred itself is a prison, Anakin." Qui-Gon clasped his arms, "The deeper you let your hatred grow, the more inescapable that prison becomes."_

 _Anakin's whole body was on fire. "I get kriffing tired of Jedi platitudes." He countered._

 _Now Qui-Gon's tone hardened, though it remained quiet.. "I like to think we have a relationship, a_ friendship _, where you feel comfortable sharing your frustrations with me. It's part of what makes our team strong. But do not forget that I am your Master."_

Master. _He'd been made to use that word long before his enrollment with the Jedi. Suddenly, he felt small, struggling against chains while his mother suffered. Anakin refused to be that slave boy again. He knew he was powerful, more so all the time, and in ways not even Qui-Gon was aware of._

 _Those feelings gathered around him, filled him, the fury so hot that it turned his voice cold when he said, "I'm also tired of hypocrites, MASTER."_

 _Qui-Gon stood, drawing himself up to his impressive height. It's what he did when he wanted to intimidate someone. He crossed his arms over his broad chest. "What is_ that _supposed to mean, my very young and foolishly obstinate apprentice?"_

 _The rational part of Anakin pleaded with him to stop. He_ should _stop. "It means you don't shield as good as you think you do."_

 _Qui-Gon snorted and dropped his hands to his hips. "Is that so? Then explain to me exactly how I am a hypocrite. I'm very curious now."_

 _He was probably expelled. Maybe he would go to some dungeon under the Temple. "You're always lecturing me about the dangers of emotions, how I'm not supposed to hate anyone. But you hate Obi-Wan."_

 _Qui-Gon took a step back._

 _Anakin just felt more emboldened, seeing the physical response."So how am I supposed to believe anything you say about that stuff? I mean, you're a great Jedi, you help lots of people, you teach me so much. Just because you hate someone that deserves it shouldn't automatically make you a bad Jedi, should it?"_

 _Qui-Gon sat on the edge of the cot. Strips of silver light fell across his eyes. "Anakin, I don't…" He swallowed, "I don't hate Obi-Wan."_

" _I know you do, Master. Whenever someone mentions him it's like you fall into a black hole."_

 _He couldn't sense the faintest reaction from Qui-Gon, not on his face and not in the Force. "I never said I had mastered my emotions perfectly. Not even Yoda can make that claim. We can merely strive to redirect the emotions when they surface." He glanced down at his hands, laced together between his knees, "But I want you to know…I do not hate him."_

 _Anakin slowly nodded. The fight seemed to have bled out of him all at once, and now he was just tired. "I'm sorry, Master. The things I said were really dumb and wrong."_

 _Qui-Gon smiled. His eyes were lighter, but weary. "Sharing your thoughts and feelings with me is never dumb, my Padawan. Although we WILL discuss, at length, the proper ways to converse about such things. For tonight, I think we shall rest."_

 _Anakin smiled back. "Yes, Master."_

 _The rangy man rose, turned down the lights and settled in his own narrow bunk._

 _Anakin laid back on his hard, flat pillow and stared up at the darkness. Relief rushed through him. He wasn't going to be shipped off after all. He knew other apprentices would be severely punished for the sort of outburst he had just leveled at his Master. Meanwhile Anakin suffered the smallest rebuke and promise of a future talk._

 _He crossed his arms behind his head and sighed. Was that one of the perks of being the Chosen One, a consolation for the loneliness?_

 _Sometimes he longed to be a regular Padawan, the ones who seemed content to stand to the side and three steps behind, who seemed to sleep without dreams._

 _If Anakin could do those things, then maybe he could have listened to Qui-Gon's denial of feelings and believed him._

 _Anakin shifted. He watched his Master's outline. The Force was restless, like a grey sea. On its waves it carried the answer from teacher to student._

 _The answer Anakin felt in Qui-Gon's heart, despite the Code._

There is Hatred.

 _Anakin slept, and saw his mother again. She drew him into her arms. He could feel her roughhewn clothes against his cheek. The air was dry, and choked with sand._

" _I love you," she said._

" _I love you too." Because without hatred, how could there be love? Balance. Years ago, Qui-Gon had told the Council how important balance was in the Force._

 _He knew his Master was capable of love, which meant he was capable of hatred._

 _Anakin slipped further into the warmth._

There is Hatred.

Qui-Gon Jinn loved the natural world. He never felt more at ease than when his feet were in the dirt with the sun on his back. Coruscant was home but it was also sterile and uninspiring. He could only last in the Temple so long before he needed to be in a vibrant, earthy place.

But even he was beginning to hate stones.

Obviously they were meant to assemble a lesson from the ruined stairs. Yoda continued to watch them into the dawn with heavy-lidded eyes.

As far as unorthodox training sessions went, this was nowhere hear the worst Qui-Gon had endured…or issued, for that matter. But a niggling feeling persisted in the back of his mind.

A soft breeze blew across them at that moment. He breathed in, closing his eyes and letting the air center him.

"This is impossible," Anakin announced, pulling Qui-Gon out of his short reverie.

Dust covered the younger Jedi's dark tunics. Anakin was tall, almost as tall as Qui-Gon himself. The tow-headed, wiry boy from Tatooine was suddenly a man with serious eyes and a strong jaw.

Until he was annoyed. Then he was swiftly a child again, years of Jedi training evaporated. "There's no way to salvage this pfassk."

Qui-Gon ignored the curse and wiped his hands. Anakin, no matter how coarsely he worded it, was right. The ancient steps were beyond repair. Master and apprentice had tried to concoct a crude mortar from the elements of the forest available to them, but all it yielded was dirty fingernails and gentle laughter from Yoda. Even a liberal use of the Force could not bind the crushed stone.

"Irrevocably broken, then, is the path?" called the old Jedi.

They walked over to the shade tree, kneeling at the clawed feet of Master Yoda.. Qui-Gon looked at Anakin, nudging him to answer.

Anakin hesitated, mouth pressed to a brooding line, then "Yes, Master, I think so."

"Hmmm…." Long green ears lowered, "To the doors, how will you reach?"

More foreboding needled Qui-Gon's skin. He did not know what lay beyond the doors of the Ivus Temple, but their timeworn pattern was carving itself into his mind's eye: simple Jedi figures in combative stances and meditation poses. So few Jedi passed through this forgotten site. Would they only be greeted by specters of the Temple's past, the long-dead warrior muses for the massive stone doors?

Because nothing about this peculiar mission felt joyful, or alive. His head was too muddied for deep thought. He looked into Yoda's watery, vague gaze and was weighted with growing dread. How often did he encourage his Padawan to embrace the unknowns, and now he was almost writhing in impatience and worry, waiting for Yoda to get to the point.

"Well…" Anakin started, glancing over his shoulder, "I think I can just walk up to them, Master."

A small suggestion of a smile tugged at the corner of the withered lips. "Even broken?"

"I know I could." Quickly and fully confident.

"Then walk the steps, we shall."

The trio carefully ascended the mash of rock and dirt, staring ahead at the Temple doors.

Yoda sounded labored, though his movements were agile. His gimer stick tapped again and again on the steps. "Too far gone, these stairs are, to be restored. Too many years, too much decay."

Qui-Gon noticed bright green weeds growing up from patches of dirt among the stone. His heart lurched.

"But useful, even destroyed paths can be, if willing one is to walk them."

Qui-Gon briefly locked eyes with Anakin. His protégé appeared no less curious, a shared burst of wonder between them in the Force, as they finally stood before the temple doors.

He found himself extending fingers, to trace the grooves of the ancient carvings.

 _Master._

The most familiar of terms whispered to him, but Anakin was silent, as was their diminutive guide. The past, then, the Jedi from an era he never lived in a place he had never been, but still eternally linked to him, in the unifying Force, in this strangely breathless moment.

Qui-Gon stretched his whole hand out against the cool grey stone. For a few seconds he fought the ludicrous urge to weep. He knew Yoda was watching him.

The doors opened.

Cool air cascaded over them as they entered. The interior of the Ivus Temple was far humbler than the main Jedi dwelling on Coruscant. More carvings adorned the stone walls and floors. Squares of natural light shone from large, plain windows. Thick green vines and tiny flowers overwhelmed awwthe front hallway, where a slim human woman stood in patient greeting.

Qui-Gon did not recognize her, though he immediately sensed she was Jedi. They all bowed to her.

"Master Yoda," she bowed deeply to the Grand Master in response. Soft tendrils of lavender hair dipped with her.

"Master Faun," Yoda's voice was warm.

She settled violet eyes on Qui-Gon. "Master Jinn, Padawan Skywalker, I'm pleased to meet you both."

"It's nice to meet you, too," Anakin gave a second short bow. He sounded more enthusiastic than he had since they set out for Ivus Minor.

Women usually had that effect on him, despite multiple lectures from Qui-Gon.

Master Faun seemed coolly amused by the boy's sudden exuberance. "We don't have many visitors here. The Ivus Temple has become something of a relic. I see more wildlife than Jedi most days."

Qui-Gon laughed. "That sounds refreshing. I've found wild animals tend to exhibit superior manners to the average apprentice."

Anakin blushed, but with a good-natured grin. For all his teenage brooding, he was the first to laugh at a joke. "Maybe apprentices who've basically been raised by a wild animal," he retorted.

"Master Yoda told me you two would be entertaining. I hope you like it here. Now, please follow." She turned on her heel, and led the way through a series of corridors.

"How long _will_ we be here?" Anakin asked, dodging his Master's disapproving look.

Faun stopped at a closed door. "Hopefully long enough," she said. "Here are your quarters. We don't have the amenities of Galactic City, but we'd like you to feel at home." She briefly met Yoda's eyes and smiled. Her white tunics rustled in the slight breeze. "I'm sure you wish to rest after your journeys. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow."

The soft spoken Jedi disappeared down another shadowed hallway.

Qui-Gon laced his arms together in his voluminous tunic sleeves and looked down at Yoda. "She is a healer?"

Yoda hummed and nodded.

He glanced at the empty, vine-smothered hall. "I believe she communicated with me, while we worked outside." _Master_ , in that mild tone.

But the ancient Councilor was unmoved by his revelation, drooping eyes closing and mouth stretching into a thin line. "Retire, too, I shall."

The pair waited for the senior Jedi to shuffle off before gratefully slipping inside their simple sleeping quarters.

Anakin flopped onto a bunk and toed off his black, dust-caked boots. He melted into the mattress, cracking various joints and exhaling. "Hey, maybe tomorrow morning we could get in a good sparring session, if we're done playing with stones."

Qui-Gon surveyed the modest space, noting contrasts with the main Temple. Less sterile metallics, more greenery and natural elements. "I'm not sure if saber maneuvers can be squeezed into whatever schedule has been arranged for us, Padawan.."

"Oh," The boy laced his fingers atop his chest, studying the figures etched above their beds. "Something feels…weird here. You know what I mean, Master?"

The knot in his guts tightened. Leftover chalk and dirt from the abandoned stairs lingered in his nostrils and dried out his throat. He was tired, and more confused than ever.

"We must not rush to judgement, Anakin. Trust your feelings, but keep your mind open." Qui-Gon untied his hair and settled beneath a thin blanket. He repeated the admonishment to himself until the words ran together and he was asleep.

 _Anakin Skywalker couldn't quite believe this was his life. For nine years, he knew only desert, and struggle, and a futile kind of hope. Now he was standing on a grand platform, flanked by Jedi and royalty, as the people of Theed celebrated in the streets._

 _His chest swelled with pride. They were dancing and singing because of_ him. _Well, not JUST him, but he was the one who obliterated the droid control ship, and that really stopped the bad guys….the Federation, Mister Qui-Gon had called them._

 _No,_ Master. _Master Qui-Gon. It was pretty hard to keep up with all the stuff he was supposed to learn now. The big Jedi was going to be his teacher, but not right away, even though he knew Qui-Gon wanted to get his training started. Anakin didn't understand why they had to wait. He still got to wear his own set of real Jedi tunics, though, and Qui-Gon had promised him a pair of new boots too._

 _He guessed it was stupid to be excited about boots, but everything he'd ever owned before was a hand-me-down or salvaged from a scrap pile…and even then, those things were never really_ his. _He looked up at the panorama of sun and sky and confetti and flying parade ribbons, and thought maybe a little part of the festivities could be for him, because he was free now, too._

 _The Queen was watching the display with a beautiful, open smile. She looked like an angel again, swathed in delicate white layers, with white fans like clouds in her hair. Her brown eyes caught his, and for a few seconds, it was their party, their trumpeting joyful music and exhilaration._

 _He wished Padme was coming with them to Coruscant. Maybe he would get to go to Naboo again, one day. There was so much possibility now, and a dizzy thrill tickled his spine. He wondered how many places he'd get to go._

 _Qui-Gon quietly cleared his throat. He looked over, but the man was checking his commlink again and didn't seem to notice him. Mister Qui-Gon was super nice and even funny sometimes, but ever since they left for Naboo, the Jedi was acting like he was bothered by something. He was always going off to the corner to talk into his comm, and it never sounded like he was happy about the conversation. Even when someone important wanted his attention, like the Queen, Anakin could tell Qui-Gon was distracted._

 _Like, this parade was the coolest thing Anakin had ever seen EVER, but he wasn't sure Qui-Gon had looked at it for more than a second. Maybe because he was tired. He was pretty old, Anakin thought, because his long hair was more silver than brown and his face showed a lot of lines when he smiled._

 _Or frowned, like he was doing now, sliding his communicator back in its clip._

 _Anakin took a half-step closer to him. "My mom says a watched droid never beeps," he offered earnestly._

 _The man chuckled, more soft lines streaking from the corner of his eyes. "Your mother is a very wise woman."_

 _Anakin swallowed a sudden surge of tears. He wasn't a Jedi yet, but he wasn't going to whimper like a baby in the middle of this fancy event. He just missed Mom so much already. They had never been apart a whole day before, and now… "I'd get mad when my projects weren't working out right…" He hesitated, squinting as the sunlight flared, "You seem mad. Or sad."_

 _It was weird, but he could feel Qui-Gon's reaction, as if it was happening to Anakin himself. His chest was so tight he could barely breathe._

 _Qui-Gon just smiled down at him like nothing was wrong and patted his back. The Jedi's shoulders were very broad, and he was taller than any human Anakin had seen before. It seemed extra strange, then, that he was shrinking beneath the burden of whatever this problem was._

 _A switch went off in Anakin's head. "Are you mad that Obi-Wan isn't here?"_

 _Qui-Gon did stare out at the celebration then, hooking his thumbs into his belt. Loose strands of hair floated around his face. "I had hoped he would join us by now," he said, in a low, distant voice._

 _Anakin shrugged. "Maybe he just didn't like the mission. Sometimes when I don't want to do my chores I'll hide in a really good spot."_

 _Qui-Gon snorted softly. "That is a clever idea, Anakin. But I think all the good spots have already been checked."_

" _Oh, okay." The boy deflated a little. Qui-Gon had done a lot to help him. It would be cool to help him back, except he didn't actually know Obi-Wan. How could he find a stranger?_

 _Qui-Gon's fingers were brushing along the top of the commlink again._

 _Anakin could see the message lights still weren't blinking. He bit his lip. "I bet he'll be there when we get back." He straightened with optimism, "Because Obi-Wan seems nice, and nice people don't just run away forever."_

 _A blunt thumb touched his chin. He offered Qui-Gon a reassuring smile, even though his words had made the man's kind eyes suspiciously bright._

" _I'm sure you're right, Anakin."_

 _Then Qui-Gon motioned for him to return his focus to the parade. He was glad to be part of the merriment, and Anakin couldn't help but think that even though Obi-Wan seemed nice, he was really stupid for missing out._

Qui-Gon woke choking on a gasp. Shadows from unknown dreams franticallyspun in his mind. Voices gibbered insistent nonsense, their whispers scraping against the silent dark.

He propped himself up on his elbows, thinking he heard heavy footsteps outside the door until he realized it was his own heart thudding in his ears. Qui-Gon threw long legs over the side of the sleeping cot and rubbed his face.

 _Dreams pass in time._

An oft-repeated mantra of his own Master's. He remembered being torn from nightmares to find Dooku's face hovering above him in stark judgement. By the time he was a senior Padawan, Qui-Gon's sleep was mostly blank, any visions forgettable. So he found it challenging, years later, when his apprentice revealed an obvious talent for prescient dreams.

A curse, Dooku would have proclaimed it.

 _Rightly so,_ Qui-Gon thought. He padded to the small sink unit in the corner of the room and splashed a little water on his face.

Anakin stirred at the streaming sound, an arm flopping off the cot. The boy would surely need sleep for…whatever it was that awaited them in the morning. Qui-Gon knew he himself would not be able to settle enough to rest again tonight, and he did not want his wakefulness to disturb the Padawan.

He was also curious about this temple. Despite his uneasy feelings, Qui-Gon yearned to explore the place, so resplendent and perplexing in the Force, different than the Temple he had known since before he could form memory. Perhaps he could find a serene, private spot to meditate.

Qui-Gon took his cloak and quietly slipped out of their quarters.

Lowlights guided him along unfamiliar paths. He had left his boots behind, and his naked feet touched on cold stone. Jedi watched him from the walls, their carved eyes deep and old, following. Fleetingly, he wondered if they approved of his presence.

He passed through a corridor shrouded in ivy, the air bright when he breathed it in. Anyone that knew Qui-Gon Jinn at all would remark that this temple seemed tailored to his taste for nature and simplicity. He paused to touch a tiny, tear-shaped leaf.

 _Master._

A rustle. He looked up, and saw the violet and cream figure of Master Healer Faun standing at the end of the corridor. She appeared almost an apparition in her white tunics, long, unbound hair drifting to her waist. "Master Jinn."

He took a step towards her, but hesitated, remembering suddenly that he was in his sleep clothes. "I apologize, Master Faun. The temple proved too beautiful to resist. I admit I did not think I'd run into anyone at this hour."

Faun smiled and tilted her head. "Do you have trouble sleeping, Master Jinn?"

Qui-Gon thought of the anonymous terror in the ether of his unconsciousness, the voice calling to him. "Occasionally." He told her.

"Walk with me? Insomnia loves company, it seems. I can be your guide through the Temple."

He studied her shadowed countenance. Like most healers, he sensed a great empathy in her, tempered by cool, willful detachment. "I am glad of the offer, Master Faun."

Together, they toured the main floor. Faun, in hushed tones, described the origins of the Ivus Temple and its uses through the centuries. Once a busy training hub for Masters and Padawans, now it was maintained mostly out of tradition.

"In the early days of my apprenticeship, my Master and I made an emergency landing here on Ivus Minor. We came to the Temple and I fell in love with it." Her eyes softened with the recollection. "It was here I first realized I wanted to pursue the ways of Healing."

She led him into a secluded garden. It was dark, save for wobbly pinpoints of amber light given off by glow bugs. The space was modest, but the flora seemed lovingly curated. Qui-Gon recognized some of the species from far flung worlds.

"The array of blooms is impressive," he commented, pausing to admire a cluster of delicate, opalescent flowers. "Are these from Kallidah?"

"Very good, Master Jinn," She looked pleased. "I'm actually something of a traveling healer. I cannot help but bring back a few mementos from my journeys."

Faun motioned for him to sit on a bench facing a small fountain. She watched random leaves swirl in the water before turning to Qui-Gon. "I was on sabbatical when Master Yoda asked me to return to the temple."

Qui-Gon's stomach tightened. "To see us? Myself and my apprentice?"

Her eyes were flecked with amethyst, unreadable. "You seem to already know the answer, Master Jinn."

"I believe I do." There was no use dancing around it. "You have been communicating with me telepathically since we arrived."

The Healer's eyebrows knit. She touched his shoulder briefly, and he felt gentle compassion radiating from her fingertips. "I have only spoken to you as I am speaking to you now."

He leaned forward on a knee and shook his head. "I…am surprised." Perhaps the voice _was_ no more than a subliminal greeting from a long-dead generation of Jedi. He gazed across the gardens, admiring the flourishes of exotic blossoms, feeling their pure and uncomplicated energy thrum in the Living Force. "This temple feels like another home. I only wish I knew why we are here. Master Yoda can be-"

"Impossible?" Faun finished with a knowing smile. "And yet, where would any of us be without him?"

"I might be sleeping," Qui-Gon deadpanned.

"Yes, but one can miss so much while sleeping." The Healer said, and squeezed his hand with thin, firm fingers.


End file.
